I knocked on the door to Booth's office and then opened it a bit, stepping inside the narrow gap before pressing it closed behind me. Booth and Brennan were on either side of the agent's desk while Jesse had probably been "offered" to sit down in the chair in front of the desk. His arms were on the armrests on either side but his posture was anything but relaxed. It was a struggle not to scowl at Kane's presence. Then again, I'm just not really in a good mood.

"Goodman found out," I told Brennan slowly with a frown.

"How? I thought he was at lunch!" Brennan looked both surprised and crestfallen.

I sighed and looked back to the ceiling. "His lunch partner cancelled last minute and he came outside during the woodchipper test." I paused momentarily; long enough to decide to say, "But we went through with it before we knew that and let the record show that if you guys get to have that much fun on a regular basis, then you have no right to frustrations of a boring career."

Brennan uncrossed her arms and slid her hands down to her pockets and shifted uncomfortably. "What did he do?"

I shrugged halfheartedly. "He pulled Hodgins and I aside, scared Hodgins into submissiveness, informed me that my reputation is the only reason that there isn't a security guard attached to my hip on the premises, and then looked surprised when I told him I had obtained the information about his lunch plans due to his own carelessness." I smirked at Brennan. "But I think he left Angela and Zach alone about the whole thing." I motioned haphazardly to Jesse, not particularly caring but needing to know what was going on anyway. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing quite as exciting," Booth replied for Brennan, but the unimpressed look he gave me suggested that when he said "exciting," he meant "I can't believe you're really that impressed by the prospect of feeding something through a woodchipper." "Ray Sparks was in jail when Max Kane disappeared."

Jesse twisted slightly in his seat to face me and to my chagrin, he had that patient, doe-eyed look again. I really wanted to smack it off of his face. It's one thing to ask for help, it's another to manipulate people who you know have suffered the same thing.

"He might have acted as a go-between, and put Karen in touch with the hit man," Jesse tried to suggest to me. I could tell he was desperate to find answers. But telling us what was and was not and trying to direct our investigation is going out of his way to make life difficult for others.

Booth pushed himself up onto the edge of his desk and crossed his arms, testily replying to Jesse in a way that informed me he was about as fed up as I was. "One of the things you lecture about is that the simplest theory usually turns out to be true."

"Usually," Jesse emphasized, turning in the chair to face Booth and Brennan again. "Not always."

Brennan glanced over to me. "What's the simplest theory in this case?" She asked, looking almost like she was hesitant to ask.

She really wants Jesse to be innocent.

It hit me rather suddenly why she was buying into Jesse's "woe-is-me-please-help" expressions. His father was missing. Her father is missing. She finally found someone who she can really relate to and she doesn't want it to turn out that the man she'd drawn parallels with was a murderer, himself. She couldn't relate to me in the same way, but it wasn't anyone's fault. My "father" was missing, too, but the difference is I'd only known him for a short time and I hadn't truly loved him. Brennan's father had been in her life for fifteen years and then had just up and disappeared with not even a note, leaving her abandoned by both of her parents. It was the emotions involved that made Jesse a more suitable candidate than I was when it comes to relating with someone in that topic.

This in mind, I paused for a moment before answering. Jesse killed his father. No, even if I don't particularly care about Jesse, I do care about Brennan and she deserves to have her newest friendship shattered in the gentlest way possible if it turns out that Jesse is responsible. "A disowned son realizes that his father may remarry and he might lose his inheritance," I stated, avoiding her eyes.

Brennan's eyes widened and she looked to Booth suddenly in alarm. "Booth, are you accusing Jesse of murdering his own father for money?" She sounded hurt, like she thought we were just picking fights with Jesse for no reason and trying to keep her from being friends with him. It only made me feel more guilt, but not enough to waive my suspicions.

"Did you ever hear about the Menendez brothers?" Booth asked her, mostly rhetorically.

Oh, very nice, Booth, I mentally applauded with a roll of my eyes.

Jesse glared up at Booth but he made no move to stand up and make the disagreement physical. "I came to you about the bone shards saying it might be dad."

"And if your father is declared legally dead, you get your inheritance now before Karen Anderson can get it into her accounts," I reminded him, crossing my arms. I don't want him to be guilty, there's no need for that and it would upset Brennan. But if he is guilty, then I want him arrested. Murder is never okay. In special circumstances - such as self-defense or the defense of another - then it's excusable, but that's not the same thing as okay.

"Well, you sure don't seem too upset about the situation," Booth said snarkily, trying to provoke Jesse into a reaction in a very textbook way.

Jesse stared up at him coolly. "Agent Booth, for four years I have been making enemies with law enforcement. Attacking me is a pretty typical response." This only served to annoy Booth, who sent him a very aggravated glare that suggested that if circumstances were different, he would throw a punch.

Brennan rolled her eyes and sighed in discontent, crossing her arms again and tipping her head. Rather loudly, she asked, "Booth, is this one of those times when you just poke and prod to get reactions?"

"Listen, Bones, we have to treat him like a suspect," Booth tried to emphasize to her, but Brennan lives by different judicial standards than Booth and so all he did was further irritate her. "He is not a member of the team!"

"Teammates don't manipulate each other for their own purposes," I added rather pointedly, fixing a stern don't-you-start order to him with only a look. If he wants to try to find what happened to his dad, fine, by all means, go ahead. But don't try to use my friends like puppets.

Jesse looked back to Brennan imploringly, his bangs swinging down in front of his face and falling just short of his eyebrows. "Look. I'm like you. I need the truth."

"I think you just don't want to get arrested," I scoffed. Clearly, my warning was not interpreted correctly.

Brennan uncrossed her arms uncertainly and for a moment I felt guilty. She knows Booth and I but she wants to trust Jesse. We unintentionally put her in a position where she might feel like her friendships are threatened and as such, it was no surprise that she wanted to leave. "I have to get back to the lab," she muttered as a lame reason for leaving when she pulled her shirt back into the position it had barely shifted from.

Booth and I looked at each other and I saw my own frustration and disappointment reflected in his eyes. For a moment, we held the gaze with Jesse sighing in between us before we both let our eyes drop to the investigator. "Now look what you've done," I spat. "You know, I don't care if you look for answers or find closure or whatever the hell it is you've been telling her. But you sought us out to play our feelings into breaking the rules and prioritizing your father. Because of you, my friends have gotten in trouble with their boss and now she's upset, too."

Jesse's chest heaved slightly as he inhaled. "I'm not playing at anything," he denied. "I just want to know what happened to my dad."

"Yes, and you knew Dr. Brennan and I are both parentless and now that you know I won't buy into your puppy eyes and find-answers-yourself, the cops-are-pointless spiels and whatnot, you've stopped even trying to appeal to me and that tells me that your motives towards friendliness are less than pure." I shook my head in disgust. "For God's sake, Jesse, just hire a P.I. and leave Dr. Brennan alone before you hurt her."

If I knew protecting Brennan from dishonest men was this hard in the beginning, I probably would have pulled a Disney and locked her up somewhere until the coast was clear.

I chased after Brennan, catching up with her by the elevators, and she didn't want to talk. Well, more precisely, she didn't want to talk about her feelings or her doubt over Jesse's innocence. She asked me if I wanted a ride back to the Jeffersonian, but other than that we were mostly quiet, because I'm not the most social person on good days and she's one of those people who understand that silence can be comfortable, not just rude.

We went up to Angela's office and found her sitting at the computer, her back to the doorway. Somehow - probably through a reflection - she knew we had come in and she pushed the rolling chair away from the computer, moving to make room for us to see. "Satellite imagery of the golf course," Angela explained the green plains separated by a thin river of blue. Computerized digital red dots were over it, looking odd and out of place. "These three dots show where the bone fragments were found."

"How does that compare to the woodchipper test results?" I asked curiously, a smile ghosting over my face. Although the resulting lectures had been… unpleasant, to say the least, I'd value the experiment itself. Not only was it totally awesome, but it gained me a more companionable working relationship with Hodgins and Zach, the nerds of the group.

Angela pursed her lips slightly at the memory but she merged diagrams like she'd been asked. "The V shape indicates the maximum distance from the point of origin a bone fragment could have traveled, given similar wind speeds and ambient temperatures."

"Okay," Brennan said, nodding and following along as she tilted her head to look at the red v-line that changed and rotated to face upwards.

I blinked at all of the other data on the screen, the plane crash locations and body markers overlapping partially. "Remove the plane crash information, please. It's irrelevant to the bone shards."

Angela highlighted and deleted from the diagram all while she talked. I wish I was that adept with computers - while I'm good, I'm not very good at talking about one thing and working complicated programs at the same time. "The question is, in order to use your pig grinding experiment…" she cringed slightly and I looked down at her with an apologetic smile.

Brennan narrowed her eyes speculatively, her eyes roaming over the screen. "I bet the murderer aimed the woodchipper over the stream," she theorized.

"They wanted the evidence to wash away but didn't realize how far the woodchipper would shoot," I agreed. I pointed with my index finger at a spot on the map that looked clear. "What's that?"

"That… is a small access road for maintenance vehicles."

So it would be big enough to get a woodchipper onto. "What if we try putting the woodchipper there and facing over the stream?"

Angela's eyebrows drew together slightly as she looked down to her keyboard. A minute later, the shape of the red V shifted over to point towards the woodchipper and extend out over the stream. The rays from the vertex continued and lined up roughly with the dots marking the bone fragments.

Angela smirked slightly, her lips quirking. Very pleased with herself, she full-out grinned. "Ooh, the sweet smell of success."

"We should see if we can find any more fragments along that course," I noted, already intending to get Booth to send out a forensics team to the area when I went to see Kenton to get the restraining order filed.

"Are we any closer to identifying our mystery woman?" I shot upright like a piece of wood was strapped to my back and whirled around, backing up so that I blocked Goodman's view of the computer while Angela's fingers typed quickly to close out the window. Damn, how did I not notice him there?

"Um, I'm not…" Brennan started, equally startled. "I'm not certain."

"Dr. Brennan is still waiting for an update," I added hastily with a small shrug to Goodman. Wasn't I already in enough hot water?

Hodgins came running in behind Goodman, holding several loose papers that fluttered in the resulting breeze. Our savior, I thought sarcastically. "I saw you come in, sir, and I have an update," he excused, slowing and smiling and trying to look like he was up to absolutely nothing unauthorized. "I have a list of possible matches on our Geisha in the sky."

"She is Caucasian," Brennan added helpfully, nodding her head. It was easy to tell she'd been paying a lot more attention to the bone shards than she had been to the unregistered woman on the flight. "Our mystery woman is definitely Caucasian."

"We sent a list to the FBI, and they're checking it out," Hodgins finished. Narrowing my eyes slightly I could see the way he fidgeted, his shoes moving slightly against the linoleum while he tapped his short fingernails on the clipboard anxiously.

Goodman tilted his head to us in acknowledgment of the fact and then, with more than a little bit of sarcasm, fixed me with a stern, knowing stare. "Well, in that case, you might want to turn your attention back to the bone fragments," he suggested snidely.

Hodgins, Brennan, Angela, and I all exchanged looks and sighs, bowing our heads slightly in half-hearted apologies for disobedience.

"Holly?"

Hearing Brennan's voice raised slightly in a yet-unspoken question, I hummed slightly and turned from the microscope to look at Brennan, tipping my head in invitation for her to continue.

Brennan paused for a minute, seeming to rethink, before she held her hands out in front of her, interlacing her fingers in what might have been an attempt to keep herself from displaying nervousness. "I… wanted to know if you'd come see Jesse with me."

I replaced my neutral mask but couldn't help but frown slightly. She was seeing him again? More than that, she wanted me to go with her? "I suppose… if you don't mind, why?"

Brennan sighed slightly in what I didn't want to assume was relief. "I have realized that my opinions of Jesse have been a bit biased." More than a bit. "In order to continue on this case I need to be able to be objective. And you've got what Booth calls "people sense," and I'm pretty sure that means that you can tell a person's personality easier than I can."

I softened my expression deliberately. She wanted me to go with her to keep her from letting Jesse compromise her rationality and priorities again. She trusted me to keep her judgment clear and not let her stray. "Alright. I'll go."

I stood slightly behind Brennan as she knocked on Jesse's hotel room door, ready to keep a certain someone in line. When the door pulled open, Jesse opened it all of the way and invited Brennan in before he saw me. Silently he offered me entry with a sweep of his hand.

I stepped through the threshold with an illusion of confidence that I didn't have. As I passed, I whispered a message meant for only him to hear. "I'll play nice if you will."

Brennan didn't hear me and she turned around once she got about level with his bed and she rested her hands just over her thighs without anything else to do. "I came for the file on my parents," she announced, sounding slightly reluctant to admit it.

So Jesse was helping her to try to find her parents. I empathized now and I sent a look to Jesse. He looked to the dresser, picking up a file and passing it to Brennan without looking at me.

"You think I might have killed my father." Jesse's voice sounded weird and slightly strained, like he was trying to understand but his feelings were hurt.

"No, it's just…" Brennan tried to defend the point but then stopped and paused, realizing that there wasn't really a way she could. "I asked the wrong person to help me, and…"

"What?" Jesse asked, tipping his head softly and watching her almost helplessly, concerned for what she was going to say next and how it might influence the rest of their relationship.

"I just…" Brennan paused and her eyes were a mix of pity and sympathy and understanding. "I just don't think it's healthy, what you're doing… putting your whole life into this."

Jesse raised his eyebrows, mildly affronted. Instead of lashing out, he countered her argument with one to match. "And I suppose what you're doing - putting nothing into solving the disappearance of your parents - I suppose that's healthy?" It was slightly scathing but it was also said like it was a fact.

Brennan shifted uncomfortably and I did what I had come here for, changing the topic and flashing Jesse a warning with my eyes. "We have a team searching the golf course for more bone fragments," I allowed, crossing my arms.

Brennan gave me a single thank you on the car ride back and I noticed her anxiously thumbing the tab of the file on her lap while she drove with one hand on the wheel. I said nothing about it and let her stop by her office to set it someplace safe and out of sight before we went out to see Hodgins and Zach on the platform.

"Amazingly, we found a finger with a nail still attached." Hodgins spoke sounding slightly dazed and I had to agree that the level of luck that came along with finding a fingernail was quite surprising. Nothing seemed to come too easily to this group of people. "Underneath that nail…"

He trailed off to let Zach fill in, shaking his head slightly in wonderment. "Polyurethane - the tough stuff," Zach specified, both awed and stunned. "The victim must have been scraping at something before he died." Just like that, in a blink, his face crumpled in disappointment like a sad puppy ready to be scolded. If he had the pointy little dog ears, they probably would have flattened. "I can't identify this bone anomaly… it's full of osteoids - thick, maybe part of the mandible?" He backed up slightly away from the microscope and seeing as I was closer I took only a minute before interpreting that as an invitation.

I didn't have to adjust the focus - Zach had already done that. The fragment of bone looked odd. The dye used to make it easier to see tinged it a bit of a light blue-green, but the ridges, clefts, and pores were numerous and concerning. It was one of the most unhealthy bones I could recall seeing. "There's something up with the cellular structure," I decided, although didn't sound too definitive.

I pushed myself away from the desk so that Brennan could move forward to look, which she did with surprising grace and focus, considering all else that she had going on. Meanwhile, Hodgins looked over at me with a frown. "A woodchipper wouldn't do that damage at the cellular level."

I shook my head in agreement. "I can't think of any weapon that would. Something biological, maybe?"

"It's a non-malignant bone tumor," Brennan agreed with a bit of surprise. She looked up from the microscope and looked up to Zach as she said, "I need the most recent bone scans from Max Kane's medical records."

Bring! The shrill ringing ripped through the air and cut Zach off before he could even begin to speak. He looked slightly irked by the phone but Hodgins answered with a smile in the graduate's direction.

"Hodgins," the entomologist answered, holding the black receiver up to his ear. The curling cable swung around like elastic. His slight smile fell from his face in concern and he moved the phone to press the talking end against his neck and looked to Brennan with a frown. "It's Booth. The locals just arrested Jesse Kane for attacking Karen Anderson."

"Damn it," I cursed lowly, looking down to the ground while Brennan stared at Hodgins, trying to determine if he was serious before she sighed.

"What did he do?" I asked as soon as Booth pulled out of the Jeffersonian lot. It was already pretty clear what the idiot had done but I did want the details, just so I know what Jesse was trying to accomplish.

"The local sheriffs say Jesse Kane showed up at Karen Anderson's house to confront her." Aside from speaking a little faster than normal, Booth showed no sign of differentiating Jesse from any other suspect. I wondered if he was just that good at compartmentalizing or if he was doing it for Brennan. "He was ranting about the murder or his dad. Eddie tried to throw him out - the two of them, they exchanged punches." He paused and glanced at Brennan. Through the rearview mirror I saw that Brennan was very carefully keeping herself from reacting. Booth did a double-take. "The fact that Jesse confronted him doesn't mean that he isn't the killer," he reminded her uneasily, worried that she would take up the wrong side of the argument.

"I know," Brennan stated simply, her voice calm.

"You know what? He might have done this just to make us think that he was angry at her, alright?" Booth suggested. I briefly wondered why he was so desperate to keep Brennan from allying with Jesse Kane. Even when I'd been determined to stay with a murder suspect and his wife, convinced that the wife was a victim, he hadn't tried this hard to get me to stay. It could be just because Brennan is his partner and I'm just this kid he's looking out for, but if I didn't know better I'd say he was almost jealous of the attention and respect Brennan was displaying towards Jesse.

God knows I wish I had her respect like Jesse does, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if she only praises me because I'm a kid.

Brennan looked over and tipped her head to Booth to show her earnest expression. "No poking and prodding involved, do you think Jesse murdered his father?"

Booth clearly didn't want to answer that question and he sort of dodged around it by giving a disgustingly philosophical and deep answer. "You know Bones, all I'm saying is, we get into these things, we look into murders, and we can't let our heartstrings get all plucked. Okay?"

"No promises," I muttered from the back, thinking of the several times when my emotions had gotten the better of me. Beating up Charles Sanders' murderer wasn't all too necessary when I think about it. Neither was getting myself nearly killed for a wife with Stockholm Syndrome when she was never in danger of death.

"We've got to poke at people's wounds, we have to make them bleed a little, and we've got to make them tell us things that they normally wouldn't want to tell us, alright?" Booth just continued like I hadn't said anything, already having this sort or speech planned out in his head. I'd probably have ruined it if he'd acknowledged me. "We've got to be willing to be hard on them, is what I'm trying to say, even when we know that we're no different than them."

Of course, Brennan was as task-oriented as ever, and she wasted no time in pointing out what Booth had been trying to avoid. "You didn't answer my question."

I snickered in the background.

"Well, I have an opinion," Booth reluctantly caved. "You want to know? If I had to bet, I'd say he didn't do it."

Brennan nodded and looked forward through the windshield again, satisfied. "Me, too."

Booth stopped and looked over at her quickly before his eyes snapped back to the street. "I'm going off my gut." He seemed surprised that she was agreeing with him and probably thought it was best to just get that out there. "I mean, what - what's persuading you?"

"The bone fragments at the golf course." Brennan stated it so matter-of-factly that I couldn't hide my smile at Booth's stunned expression when he found out we already knew who the victim wasn't. "They didn't come from Max Kane."

Booth's face split into a wide smile as he realized what Brennan had done just there. "That's great!" He praised. "You knew that when you asked me what I thought. You testing out my instincts, Bones?" He smirked proudly.

"Poking and prodding," Brennan nodded, pleased with herself for his positive reaction. "I learned from the best." She reached over while Booth drove and she pinched his cheek playfully. Booth laughed.

Watching them from the backseat, I smiled like a proud parent at how far their socialization had come from when I first met them from back during the Eller case.

Jesse looked up to me, startled, where he sat in a chair in the interrogation room. I stood opposite him with my arms crossed, unimpressed. "It's not my dad?" He asked, basically repeating what I had just said and choking slightly on the words.

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. We're not sure who it is yet, but it isn't Max Kane." If I weren't so opposed to touch I would have circled around and clapped his shoulder sarcastically. "Congratulations, man, your father wasn't frozen and fed through a woodchipper." After I said it, I realized that that was pretty rude even for me, and offered an apologetic shrug.

Jesse seemed too shocked to really pay attention. "How can you be certain?"

"The labs found a juxtacortical chondroma-" I stopped, recalling exactly who I was talking to. "Er, a non-malignant bone tumor. Your father's x-rays showed no sign of any tumor, benign or malignant. Therefore, no match."

Jesse swallowed. I watched with my head tilted to one side, tongue running along the back of my teeth as I watched him curiously, slightly detached from his emotions. "Maybe he got it after the x-rays?"

And now there's the slightest touch of annoyance. "Dude, I just told you that we have no proof your father is dead, let alone murdered. Why are you so desperate to prove that he's been killed?"

I knew as I said it that the only reason he wanted it to be true was because that way he could have closure. It meant someone was responsible and he and his father weren't at fault. That his dad wasn't possibly off on a permanent vacation in Hawaii without even a "so long" to say goodbye.

"Look, the x-rays were taken only two months before his disappearance." I continued with barely a pause. "It's the type of tumor that would have taken time to develop - more time than two months."

Jesse leaned over the table, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before settling with his face hidden behind his hands. I just barely heard the whoosh of air as he sighed.

I continued talking when I didn't get a verbal reply. "Agent Booth is going to see if he can get the assault charges to go away and get you out of here. Nothing's definite but if Karen gets a restraining order, chances are she'll be willing to let go of the charges." I paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" His voice was bitter as he looked up at me through narrowed, distressed eyes. I didn't let the big sad eyes get to me. "Suspecting that I killed my own father?"

"No," I replied bluntly. I'm sorry for several things, but not for that. "I was doing a job, and I was doing it well. What I'm sorry for is for being such a bitch before it was even called for. And yes, it was called for at times, when you were pulling that "I'm-sweet-and-sexy" act on Dr. Brennan. She's a human, too, and manipulating her is not appreciated. I'm sorry that you lost your father to a woman who you never liked. I'm sorry that his disappearance drove you to put your life on hold. And mostly I'm sorry that even with all of this, you still don't know what happened." I watched him watch me evenly. "Because you were right about one thing. I never did know what happened to my foster parents after they disappeared. They didn't mean as much to me as your dad did to you but even so I know I'd do a lot to get my own answers. I get how painful it is. And most of all, I'm sorry for you for that."

"If the bones don't belong to Max Kane, who's our dead guy?" Hodgins asked me, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at me.

I leaned against the railing of the platform, observing the state of my nails. I made a mental note to do something about my cuticles before they started ripping. Fighting is not good for hand care. "We can send out a description of the tumor to local hospitals," I suggested, unable to really bring myself to care. "We see if it leads to any missing patients."

Hodgins watched me closely. "You alright? You seem kinda…"

"Relaxed?" I supplied with a half-smile.

"Apathetic, I was going to say," he corrected.

I shrugged, unable to be offended or bothered by the comment. "I don't know. I know Brennan likes the guy, but Jesse Kane just got on my nerves and now he doesn't have any excuse to bother me."

Booth had a similar position to me, leaning against the railing of the platform. We should probably stop doing that… if it were faulty or anything, then we'd probably really regret it. "We can do that," he told me with a half-wave of his hand in my direction. He looked to Zach, who sat at the table with the computer and the chair spuns slightly to face the rest of the platform, while Brennan stood by the stairs. She wasn't talking a lot, which bothered me - but at the same time I knew not to interfere. It was best to give her some time to sort things out for herself, but if I was still worried later I should tell Angela, not talk to her myself.

Booth sent a nod to Zach. "List the pertinence," he ordered, sighing up to the ceiling. I do wonder how Booth handles it all sometimes. On one hand, he's the estranged father of a four-year-old son and an ex veteran. On the other, he's an FBI agent in the homicide department who not only goes into the field with the task of protecting Brennan, but also has to make sure I don't get myself killed.

Zach looked over his shoulder, but of course, no one was directly behind him. With wide eyes, he turned around and looked back. "Me?" He jabbed a finger at his chest. "Are you talking directly to me?"

Booth rolled his eyes briefly before he locked eyes with Zach, his own brown eyes sparking with irritation. "Yeah. You can tell because my eyes are looking at you. My mouth is aimed in your direction." He pointed from his face to Zach and seemed to expect more intelligence from someone who claimed to have such a high IQ.

Zach looked bewildered and hurt and I closed my eyes, looking up to the ceiling and hoping that this would all blow over smoothly. When I looked back, Zach was leaning forward in his chair with his eyebrows drawing together in upset and he tried to whisper urgently. "What about our guy thing?" The exasperated and irate look that Brennan send Booth at that hurt question could have melted a glacier. "If - If you're speaking to me, then does this mean I'm not on the team?"

I coughed loudly, eyes focused on Booth, and my cough sounded a lot like "I told you so."

"Zach, let's concentrate on the work," Brennan suggested gently.

Zach still deflated, looking confused and hurt. Still, he did as he was told faithfully. "Pertinence…" he started.

"Pertinence," Booth agreed impatiently.

"The victim died. We - We don't know how." Poor Zach stuttered as he tried to force his way back into his working attitude. "He was then frozen, dismembered with a Heidal carving knife, and pushed through a black mantis twelve hundred woodchipper."

"The exact woodchipper you fed the frozen pig through," Angela butted in, sending Hodgins a disgusted look, still not over how we had ruined her lunch.

"The exact woodchipper that Ray Sparks had access to," Booth added, lifting up his arm like a student answering a question or reminding the teacher of something.

"Right, him," I nodded, a little abashed to have nearly forgotten Sparks in the "excitement" between Brennan and Jesse. "At the time, Sparks was in jail, and that's where he was when Max Kane disappeared." I caught the look that Brennan started to give me so I continued quickly. "At the time the fact had exonerated him but now we know the victim isn't Max Kane and now we have what and how, but not the who or why."

"Well, who else would Ray Sparks have motive to kill?" Angela shook her head slightly.

"The victim is a middle-aged male," Zach started helpfully. He opened his mouth to add something more, but Booth interrupted.

"His brother," Booth stated gravely, sighing softly and raising his hand to rub the heel of his palm against his forehead wearily.

Hodgins caught on quickly to what he meant by that. "What motive?" The entomologist inquired.

"They both inherited the house," Booth answered quickly. I paused for a moment, racking my brain to remember this, before concluding that storming away from the interrogational aspect of the case had lost me some information. "Okay, guys, you look at that tumor and Brennan, Holly, and I will go talk to Sparks."

"While you're there, look for a large freezer," Zach advised to Booth's back as the FBI agent turned around to retreat.

Booth looked back over his shoulder and stopped while Brennan and I shared a look and we both started walking towards the stairs of the platform. "Why?"

"The body was frozen," Angela reminded Booth with a fond roll of her eyes.

"Polyurethane is a common insulating liner in freezers," Zach added helpfully. I doubt Booth thought it was all that helpful, but I filed the fact away for possible use at a later date.

"It was under the victim's fingernail," I told Booth, feeling suddenly like I'd been punched in the stomach. "Like he was scratching to get out from the inside."I don't want to be buried alive and I can barely imagine being trapped inside such a small space and slowly dying of suffocation, heat, cold, or malnourishment. I mean, Harry Potter had enough of that and reading about it was enough for me, too.

"This might have been big enough." My voice broke a sort of placid silence and I felt the cool temperature even through the latex glove on my hand. The cooler was still plugged in in Sparks' apartment. The thought of killing someone and storing their body in a fridge and then keeping said fridge in your home definitely made my rating of Sparks go down.

I pushed the unit's door open and then lowered myself to my knees in front of it, looking inside. There were no shelves and no drawers. If I had any particular desire, I could probably fit inside if I pulled my knees up to my chest and kept my shoulders shrugged forward.

Brennan and Booth stood behind me while I looked. Brennan wore gloves, too, but she stayed standing. "The detectives who picked up Sparks say he claims his brother was alive and well the last time he saw him," she said aloud.

I scoffed, looking to the inside of the door. The lining was what I recognized as polyurethane - enough evidence to hold Sparks. And there were streaks of pink and red along the inside of the door. Blood. DNA swabs would tell for sure but we had enough for conviction.

"Well, he might have been," Booth allowed. "For about thirty minutes until he ran out of air in there."

"There are scratch marks," I reported, standing up straight and running my fingers gently over the polyurethane seal for any trace evidence that might have been driven in.

"What kind of person could lock a living human being in a freezer?" Brennan's question was serious and she sounded equal parts horrified and disgusted.

There really wasn't a good way to answer that, so I settled for calm and lighthearted. Well, as lighthearted as possible. The latex of one glove caught on something pushed into the liner and I went back to it, pressing down the seal and picking it loose. "Bad Samaritans." Finally it came loose and I held it up in one hand, my stomach doing a little dive. It was small, slightly curved, and blood stained.

"What is that?" Booth asked, nose wrinkling in distaste.

"A fingernail," I answered seriously.

Booth scowled and shook his head, repelled. "His own brother," he muttered, both incensed and depressed.

I whistled lowly. "Now that is one hell of a sibling rivalry."

"It's a pleasure to see you again!" I followed Kenton into his office with a grimace that went unnoticed by him. His bouncy attitude, happy and carefree, was inappropriate for someone in his career field and it just made me a bit uncomfortable. His office felt cool and while welcoming, it wasn't homely, like Booth's. Kenton pulled out a chair for me across from his desk and then he went around to his spinning chair that faced the monitor of the computer. "I have to be honest, I didn't think you'd ever contact me," he admitted with a sheepish, boyish smile in my direction.

I forced a polite smile back to him. "Yes, well, the need arose."

"Yes, about that." Kenton seemed to notice that there was an open file on his desk and he seemed almost surprised. He closed it up and pushed it to the side. "You said you needed legal help downstairs?"

The term help grated on my nerves. I don't want anyone's help and it had been difficult enough to grow up and nearly beg Booth to open the case with the man on the fairway. Still, that is what's going on here, and that is the reason that I went to the security and asked where Jamie Kenton's office was. Of course, the security guard had been surprised at first, normally affiliating me only with Booth, but she gave me a welcoming smile and told me which floor and which office.

"What's the problem, Holly?" He asked, tipping his head and giving me that charismatic, friendly smile.

I sighed softly before stating it, because once I said it, I couldn't take it back. If he knew I thought I might be in danger then it all sort of goes to hell and if I refuse to go through with it, then he'd probably tell Booth - and then the entire point of going to him for help instead of someone I actually trust is voided.

"I need to file a restraining order."

The silence in the room was almost funny. I stared at him, completely serious and awaiting a reaction while he just kind of sat there with wide eyes. I decided maybe he didn't quite get it.

"You know… the things that make it so people who I don't like have to stay a hundred yards away?"

This seemed to snap him out of it and he nodded, sitting up straight in his chair again. He hit the mouse of the computer with the side of his hand and the screen lit up, casting light onto his face and into the bookshelves behind him. "Right," he said quickly, like he was trying to make up for the time it had taken for him to get into action. "A restraining order… against who?"

"Oliver Laurier." It surprised me how easily I gave the name and that only served to make me realize that my stalker had set me more on edge than I had thought. I was capable of making it seem like there was no issue, and no one had picked up on it thus far aside from Angela, and that was only because I was late to something. But on the inside, I was more freaked out than I thought if I was that ready to give up information in order to feel a semblance of legal safety.

Kenton's hands found his mouse and keyboard and he seemed to be opening a document of some sort. He was probably just getting a way to store the information to fill it out later, since I'm a minor. He squinted slightly at me, trying to discern something. "Why does that sound familiar?" He wondered.

"He was a suspect in a big federal case and political scandal," I answered quickly, trying to move past it before it got out of hand. I glanced at the clock on the wall and shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I really don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to hurry. I'm supposed to be somewhere."

I'm supposed to be enjoying a semblance of friendly companionship at a Chinese restaurant in about forty minutes.

"Yes, of course." Kenton nodded and went sort of back to his business mode. "And why do you need the order filed?"

"I have reason to believe that he'd been stalking me." I answered honestly and instead of making him ask, I sped things up by explaining myself without prompting. "He was already on record in a restraining order filed against him under the name of a woman named Cleo Eller. When I was investigating the case with Agent Booth, he became fascinated by me. He followed me to a crime scene and I told him to leave me alone. That was several weeks ago and recently I caught him following me through the city."

We went through these questions for about five to ten minutes. Mostly they were about me and my basic information - I gave him the fake address that my "family" had used to own, and also gave the address of my apartment, saying I was there often because of a friend. I told him where I worked, too, and it was a given that I wanted him away from me when I was at the Jeffersonian. Then there were charges pressed and whatnot. I didn't want any charges pressed on Laurier, I just wanted to have a reason for him to leave me alone.

Finally, Kenton gave me a comforting smile from over the desk. "I think I have all I need. I'll have the order sent for approval as soon as possible," he assured.

"Thank you." I took the dismissal at face value and stood up, pushing in my chair quickly with a bit of a scratchy sound as the carpet fought against the wooden legs.

"You know, Holly, if I can just say…" I watched him attentively and he changed how he was saying it. He was earnest and pleased. "I'm surprised you came to me for help instead of Agent Booth. I know you've a lot more reason to confide in him and he wouldn't have minded, so thank you for trusting me with this."

It has nothing to do with trust. It's your job, moron.

I just offered him a very slight smile. I doubt he could tell it wasn't genuine. "I wouldn't want to bother Agent Booth," I said, and reminded myself that it wasn't actually a lie. "I have no reason to believe I'm threatened by Laurier, but there is always the matter of my privacy to consider." Which I just let you in on, so, yeah… congrats, man, you made it into my "do not assault unless assaulted first" list.

When I went into Wong Foos, I saw Brennan and Booth sitting at the bar together. Despite that Angela, Hodgins, and Zach were in a booth in a corner (the one Booth very specifically claimed as his, I noted with a smirk), I paused for only a second before moving to join the pair at the bar.

"Kid," Booth greeted me with a smile as I pushed myself up into a high seat next to him. "It's about time. We were beginning to think that you wouldn't show. What kept you?"

Although I knew he wasn't trying to pry or question me, I still felt my shoulders rise defensively. "Things to do. I had to cash my check from the bar," I lied. It bothered me that while I felt nothing but amusement and slight contrition for lying to Goodman, I felt downright guilty lying to Booth.

"Ah." He nodded, accepting the lie without question, and it only made me feel a bit worse.

I wanted to stop thinking about it so I leaned forward, looking at Brennan around Booth. "How did Jesse take the news?" I asked, trying not to frown about it. It made sense to ask, because Brennan clearly cared about Jesse's feelings and it was only polite.

Brennan smiled sadly. "Like an orphan," she replied. Booth and I both raised our eyebrows at her and she leaned back slightly. "What?"

Booth chuckled while I smirked. "That's just - it's just a little poetic for you," Booth answered.

"I didn't mean it that way," Brennan protested weakly, sounding like she thought it was an insult. It just made Booth grin wider. Her teeth appeared briefly as she bit lightly at her lower lip before she leaned closer to Booth and tipped her head. "I want to ask you another favor," she stated bluntly, like she was trying to see how he would take it.

He didn't react adversely. He playfully groaned. "Another favor."

Brennan luckily could tell he was teasing, and she set a file from her purse in front of him on the bar. I was able to catch the names Christine and Max Brennan on the tab before I had to lean back as a bartender clinked an unordered glass of ice water in front of me, a fresh lemon slice fitted onto the rim of the cup. "I wonder if you wouldn't mind… taking a look at this."

"The file on your parents?" Booth's confusion left in a moment as he dipped his head in agreement. "Yeah, okay."

Brennan blinked, taken aback by the immediate acceptance. "Do you… want to think about it?" She offered. "It's a pretty big favor."

"You'd do it for me," was Booth's matter-of-fact reply.

Brennan smiled softly at him. "Yeah, I would."

He rewarded her positive answer with a genuine smile. "I'm proud you asked, Temperance."

Footsteps behind us stopped and Zach leaned in between Booth and I, interrupting the moment with obliviousness. He looked over to Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, Angela wants to know if we should order anything for you." He then turned his head to look at me. "What about you, Holly?"

"No, I'm not staying." Brennan shook her head slightly at him. "Thanks, Zach."

The thought of eating with the squints without Brennan gave me pause. Brennan and Booth seemed to be my pass to everything, and I doubted Booth would stay without Brennan. Still… if they wouldn't mind… my frustrations with Jesse led to a temporary and unintentional aversion of Brennan, which led me to spending more time with Angela, Hodgins, and Zach. They hadn't seemed to have any qualms with it, right?

"Yeah," I said, with a hesitant smile to the intern. "Just lo mein, please."

Zach nodded in confirmation before he looked to Booth with a grin. "Guess we caught another one, right?" Booth acted like Zach wasn't even there, reaching forward and taking a drink from his glass. "All for one and one for all?" Zach tried again.

Booth just looked to Brennan and conversationally finished their "moment." "I'll take a look at this and see what they didn't give you, and I'll get back to you. Okay?"

Brennan nodded but Zach looked back to me with a big smile, like he was trying to point out to me that Booth and he were doing that guy bonding thing again. After he went back to the table with Angela and Hodgins, I rolled my eyes. For such a brilliant guy, he sure was gullible.

"You're back to ignoring Zach?" I sighed.

"Look, I know neither of you approve, but you know, it works for us," Booth justified, leaning back slightly from Brennan and I on either side of us. "It works for him, so…"

"Yeah." Brennan cut him off with a reluctant nod. "I get it, and it's kind of sweet."

Booth smiled in relief at the acceptance. "Hey, you know, your people are my people."

"What? I have people?" Brennan seemed surprised but Booth smiled at her while I just nodded. She looked to the booth again. "Yeah, I have people," she agreed, sliding out of her seat to go join her people.

Booth looked over to me now that we were alone. "You know, if you wanted, I could look into your parents' disappearance, too," he offered sincerely. He sounded concerned and honest and when I looked at him I could only see concern in his expression.

"No," I replied flatly before I realized how rude that was, given the context. And then I figured that he'd want an explanation. "I mean, thank you…" I backtracked. "But I think some things are just meant to be buried. If it's over, it's over, and honestly, even if you did find my fosters, I probably couldn't trust them ever again," I admitted with a slight shrug. It was sad to acknowledge that the first people I'd started to trust had betrayed me and now I felt uneasy even thinking about them, but truth was truth, and after everything Booth's done for me, he deserves the truth about this, at least. "I think it's probably just better to remember them with a bit of fondness than with irritation at a reunion going badly."

Booth nodded slowly, trying to understand even if he didn't already, but respecting my wishes. "I wasn't expecting an answer that deep," he told me with a sideways glance.

I shrugged, not really sorry about it. "I'm full of surprises."

"Oh, yeah, I noticed."